My Grandfather was never able to get over his experience in the second World War. I joined the Forces and have been ruined too. What makes it even worse is that the Government and Veteran Affairs have been making our lives difficult. Its bad enough to be cripple but to have all of these benefits taken away and then told its better than ever is a huge slap to the face.

I almost killed myself it has been so bad but then I found out I had a child on the way. I am glad I didn't because I love being a father but I suffer every day.

Don't join the forces, if you get hurt the will screw you and tell you like it.

I hope this doesn't offend anybody, I am just telling it how it has been for us VETs

Thanks good swimmer.I'm not a vet but grandparents were( WW1 and WW2) and dad was a captain in British army. I thought Harjit Sajjan was going to reverse the nonsense Harper's government implemented and really help the vets that signed up to put their lives on the line. Sooo disappointed.

It's nearly impossible to imagine what it must really be like to fight in a war. Watching friends die. The fear. The uncertainty. Wondering if each approaching minute will be the last.

I don't think that as a people, we are wired to experience fear that permeates our souls and come out without emotional scars and not be forever changed.

The lucky ones are able to place the worst memories in a glass jar on a shelf in a dusty old corner of their minds where they can be largely ignored but they are there nonetheless. No one should have to worry about the jar breaking and spilling its nightmares, but they must.

I have my Grandfathers medals (WW1), my other grandfathers night stick (policeman during WW2) and gratitude that my father never had to see live action. He was deployed but had the good fortune to witness the end of the war from Germany or Holland or some such place where he was awaiting placement orders.

My mom talks about nightly air raids when the Luftwaffe bombed and straifed their villages and towns and they, as children, had to run to the shelters until they had finished. Then life resumed, at least until the next time.

I sometimes hear the sirens in my dreams, which is testament to how those stories affected me. It always scares me so I can't imagine the horror of living it, night after night.

There is a photo that pops up every now and then of a little girl holding a doll and wearing a little bow in her hair. She is very nicely dressed, about 5 or 6 maybe and she is standing amongst the ruins of London. Everything around her reduced to rubble and there she is. I hope she was able to forget.

mexi cali wrote:...The lucky ones are able to place the worst memories in a glass jar on a shelf in a dusty old corner of their minds where they can be largely ignored but they are there nonetheless...

...and sometimes stay buried till late in life when they surface again - for soldiers and everyone else.

My mother told us stories of the 1944/45 Allied air raids over Alsace France (on the west side of the Rhine river, the border with Germany) She was 10 years old then and described the crowded bomb shelters that were suffocating as the exploding bombs above robbed all the oxygen - she remembered the bodies of people and animals and random devastation to their city (Strasbourg) when they came back up. The Allied bombers were supposed to destroy a factory and munitions dump on the edge of town but miscalculated the drop. One day they responded to the air-raid sirens as usual but no explosions were heard. When they came back up the next morning, there were dead and dying German and American soldiers in the streets. ...and everyone cheered - the Germans were finally gone.

Many decades later, when dementia had affected her mind, she would at times wake my sister up in the middle of the night in a wild panic, insisting they must leave immediately to hide. In her mind it was 1939 - and the Nazis were on their way. As a girl, that was when she had been sent to a small village to hide-out in the country with gentile friends of the family for a while.

The nightmare of war affects everyone for life.

Strasbourg.jpg

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Mr, Dirks, I hope you read these posts. I for one would like to thank you for a very insightful letter. You have hit pretty much every point I've ever thought about on this issue - and I'm not military. I am just a person who is very thankful we have people who will do the jobs our soldiers do.

I can't for the LIFE of me, which is what our soldiers protect, fathom how our vets have come to be treated in this fashion. Our Prime Minister's comment on how the vets are asking for "more than we can afford to give" had me literally sputtering and had me looking at Mr. Trudeau in a whole new light let me tell you. I voted for him - never had my doubts that it was the right decision for me, that he was coming from a place I wanted to see us head as a Country. Sadly, I might even go so far now as to say maybe he "wasn't ready" after all. This was a HUGE insult on his part, totally without thought process, and totally unbecoming his position as our Prime Minister. There are some policies of his I agree with and I think are good and forward-thinking. However, his, and the rest of our Federal officials', policy on our veterans' pensions is embarrassing to say the least.

Mr. Dirks, your comparison to the MP's pension is bang on. Government officials do have an important place in our democratic world. However how the hell does our Government compare what they do (smile for the press, fight & argue in the House - and let's face it - most of that is posturing for show, etc and put in their time til they collect their unbelievably cushy pensions and perks), with men and women who agree to lay down their lives for us all? Who face gunfire and unbelievable horrors fighting for the good of mankind (yes, mankind, and hopefully our Mr. Prime Minister will just leave that alone? He has much bigger things to concern himself with).

Anyway, I will be following the vet's progress with regard to their pensions and will vote accordingly as this is a HUGE issue for me. Too much money has been given to others, and while it was nice to be able to help them, in my most awful dreams it never occurred to me it would come at the expense of our vets and for that I apologize for any part I might have played with my vote.

My dear old dad served in the RCAF in WWII. He could not fly (air sickness) so he repaired planes at a repair depot. I still have the roundel flag, a hand stitched marvel, that he 'acquired' on VE Day, 1945. Lest we forget.

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My father and the rest of the RAF/RCAF B-17 Flying Fortress flight crew in England during WW2. Dad, second from the right, back row, is still with us, not sure about his mates but seeing as he was 96 on his last birthday it's a toss-up. I wonder how many of us today, comfortable in front of our wide-screen TV's complaining about the price of a gallon of gas can actually relate to traveling half-way round the world to put our lives on the line for family and country.

My father enlisted in the RCAF out of Arborfield SK, and was a tail gunner in a Halifax Heavy Bomber of the 77th squadron during WWII, and at 6'2" must have been a tight squeeze not to mention freezing cold - He flew 44 missions ( normal was 38 if you lived that long ), and was a DFC Recipient.

I recall him waking at night screaming and I know he suffered from PTSD, but there was little recognition of that in those days. He passed at the age of 68 in Chemainus BC, a month after suffering a cardiac arrest on his Birthday. That will be 30 years ago this coming Sept.

He may be gone, but there is rarely a day he doesn't show up in my thoughts and memories.

Love you Dad, and I hope you and Mom are happy and together in your final resting place.